


wine and crime

by bukkunkun



Series: Make It Worse [1]
Category: Spider-Man: Far From Home (2019), Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Daddy Kink, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Emotional Manipulation, Explicit Sexual Content, Extremely Dubious Consent, Grief/Mourning, Kidnapping, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Manipulation, Marking, Mind Manipulation, Mind/Mood Altering Substances, Multiple Orgasms, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Twisted, Underage Drinking, Underage Sex, god this is horrible, kinda ????, this is mysterio we're talking about guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-04-24 16:13:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19176832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bukkunkun/pseuds/bukkunkun
Summary: Peter needs to get over Tony Stark's death, and who else was there to help but his new best friend-slash-mentor, Quentin Beck?Heed the warnings, kids!Just a little something that I'm going to declare as non-compliant to ffh canon just because idk how it's gonna happen.





	wine and crime

**Author's Note:**

> > fucking mysterio would give you beard burn [pic.twitter.com/JnnqJD0jly](https://t.co/JnnqJD0jly)
>> 
>> — 🌻 bukkun, MSc 🌟 beckfucker69 🔮 (@trickscd) [19 May 2019](https://twitter.com/trickscd/status/1130227774847721472?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw)
> 
> hi jake gyllenhaal's mysterio showed up and grabbed my dick so hard i wrote this in one sitting on my phone
> 
> anyway hello i can't wait for ffh and i just wanna get this out there already as fast as humanly possible because oh my gooodddd i wish i'm right and mysterio is as fucky as i hope he is ^ q ^ 
> 
> i wrote this for myself and a dear friend and it's one of the horniest things i've ever made, thanks tom holland for also cursing my dick
> 
> **ETA: warning tags updated, just to be safe.**

Grief, they said, was always the hardest emotion to let go.

It was excess baggage, he knew, but it was so hard to let it go—

To let _him_ go, that quickly, that easily.

_And for what?_

Venice was beautiful. The backdrop of the river-run city was gorgeous against MJ’s silhouette. Ned was having the time of his life, and for a good amount of time, they were hand in hand, not quite too willing to let each other go, not since the Snap, or what had undone it.

When he thought about it, that singular snap that brought back his life and took it away in an instant, Peter didn’t know whether to smile or cry. Sometimes, it was a mix of both, mixing with the euphoria of relief and joy that _he was here, alive, to see his friends and family again,_ his delighted giggling as he and Ned pushed their beds together in the hotel room only dissolving into sobs as he looked at the life he was having—

The life Tony Stark no longer had.

Ned was kind, and patient. Every breakdown in his company was spent in comfort and support, and Peter fancied himself growing attached to his best friend. Maybe even more than MJ—though it was hard to let her go, too, not when she laughed the way the sun rises, or when her eyes reflected sparkling stars in the sky.

Peter huffed through a shuddering, shattered breath, roughly wiping at his eyes as he bitterly wished he was anywhere but here.

Here, where Nick Fury’s eye was on him, eyebrow cocked in silent judgement, and Quentin Beck—Mysterio—hid awkwardly behind a bottle of beer. Peter sniffled, and looked at his own glass—orange juice, with a straw, even—and thought about the fact that a few of his tears had fallen into it. Could he still drink that?

“Damn,” Fury said, and Beck gave him a withering look. “You got some _issues,_ kid.”

“‘M fine.” Peter mumbled, and sniffled again. “Ugh, need a tissue.”

“Here.” Beck reached out to him, and handed Peter a little wad of napkins he picked up from the counter they sat at. Peter gave him a weak little smile, and took it from him. Gingerly he wiped at his eyes and blew his nose, and when he put the tissue down, Beck had his elbow on the counter, looking at Peter with his chin on his hand. “You miss this Stark guy a lot, don’t you?”

“Y-yeah.” Peter could _not_ cry again. Not two times in a row, and _especially_ not in front of Fury.

He wasn’t so sure about Beck yet—who knows what his multiverse world’s Spider-Man was like, but Peter didn’t want to take too many chances. He at least had to stop crying, first.

Tony would have laughed at him about that. Ruffled his hair and called him a baby, but wouldn’t leave his side until he’d calmed down.

_(Just like last time, when he mourned his uncle. Now he was mourning family, again.)_

“I’m sorry for your loss.” Beck said gently, reaching out to brush the tips of his fingers over Peter’s forehead, brushing against the locks of hair that drooped over it. “You’re taking it pretty hard.”

“I—I,” Peter shook his head, and turned away. “I’ll get over it.”

_He knew he couldn’t._

Beck’s eyes softened on him, and Fury shook his head.

“Ah, fuck it. I can’t be dealing with this.” Fury got up from his seat with a huff. Peter watched him go, deflating further, but Beck sat up straighter, looking indignant.

“Mr. Fury—” he began, but the man held a hand up for him to stop.

“Quit it. Parker here just needs some time to sort himself out. Stark was important to him, so he just needs time to think.” Beck blinked at him, and Fury turned to the door. “That’s all for now. Get some rest, kid.”

The man strode out of the room, leaving the two together inside. Beck turned back to Peter, who looked down at his juice forlornly.

“So…” Beck began, but hesitated. Peter continued to stare at the meagre orange juice in his glass, and the older man tried again. “You said you were here on a school trip?”

“H-huh?” Peter blinked, and looked at the man. The dark circles under his eyes made Beck hiss, shaking his head, and he beckoned Peter to move closer to him. Gingerly the teen complied, and when he was close enough, Beck pulled his eye down by his cheek to inspect them.

“They’re bloodshot.” He murmured. “You haven’t been sleeping well either, have you?”

“I’ve been trying.” Peter mumbled. “My best friend helps me a lot with it, but sometimes…” he bit his lip, “Sometimes it’s just hard.”

“I’m sure it is.” Beck nodded, taking a swig of his beer with a sigh. Peter watched the man move—the way his throat bobbed as he took a gulp, and looked back down at the surface of his orange juice, where his haunted expression looked back at him.

“Mr. Beck—”

“Quentin is fine, I said.”

Peter shook his head gingerly, and Beck chuckled fondly.

“Okay, fine.” He said, smiling kindly, and Peter was glad he never really knew the way he knew Tony Stark.

 _Mr. Stark_ rolled off the tongue so easily. Mr. Beck was just the slightest adjustment, but it was easier to learn than Quentin.

It was easier to remember the other Mister in his life, because for all the fuss he made about wanting to get over Tony, deep down inside Peter was—

Frightened.

Frightened of the moment he stops remembering Tony Stark—of the moment when he forgets the man who had a heart, who helped his own heart grow.

He didn’t want to forget. He didn’t want him to go.

And yet carrying that with him—the hurt was still there. It would _always_ be there, so long as the crown of thorns Anthony Stark had wound around Peter’s heart remained.

“Do you think—um.” Peter hesitated, and the man reached forward to squeeze his hand around the bottom of his glass of juice. The teen blinked at him, and Beck gave him a lopsided, kind smile.

“What’s up?”

“I…” Peter lowered his head. “You said. You could do illusions. And stuff. Right?”

“Yeah.”

“I was wondering—um…” Peter shrunk back, pulling his body away from the man, save for his hand, still being held kindly in a firm, reassuring grip. He took a deep breath.

“Do you think you could help me?” He asked brokenly, and Beck blinked at him, cocking his head in curiosity. “I just—I need to get over Mr. Stark, I know I gotta—but that means I have to stop crying about him.”

Peter took a shuddering breath.

“I just—I need—”

“Shh, I think I get it.” Beck gave Peter’s hand a pat, and the teen looked at him, watery-eyed. “You want to bear the sadness, and you think I can help you with that.”

Peter nodded gingerly, and he chuckled.

“Yeah, I can whip something up.” He said, and Peter’s eyes widened at that.

“R-really?” He asked, and Beck nodded.

“It’ll be like _Harry Potter,_ y’know?” He chuckled, ruffling Peter’s hair, and the teen laughed weakly. “That bit where he’s shoving his head into that bowl of water an’ crap, whatever?” Beck waved his hand, and Peter nodded, the beginnings of a smile making its way to his lips. “You wanna build a tolerance, I want a helping hand to save the multiverse. I can dig.”

“Th-thanks.”

Beck shrugged, and went back to admiring Peter with his chin perched on his hand.

“You must really love him.”

The teen laughed sheepishly, and sniffled. He rubbed at his eyes again, nodding.

“Y-yeah. He’s like… he’s like a dad to me.”

“That’s something.” Beck hummed, but got up. “C’mon, let’s get down to business somewhere else.”

Peter cocked his head at him, but Beck gave him a grin, picking up his bottle of beer to take a swig of it again, jerking his head at the door. “Fury got me a room while I’m stranded here. Jumping through space-time doesn’t normally take too long, but sometimes you mess up and it could take months.”

“I… really wouldn’t know.” Peter replied, but he was smiling, getting up to follow the man out the door. “So, about the multiverse—”

“Hey, hey. Not now.” Beck said, though gently, and Peter huffed fondly, nodding as the man wrapped his arm around his shoulder to lead him down the corridor. They passed by Maria Hill, who didn’t even seem to see them, her nose buried in a file, but Peter still made the effort to throw her a ‘hi, Miss Hill’ as they passed her by.

She didn’t mind him, and he pouted slightly as she continued walking, muttering darkly.

“Must be busy.” Beck hummed, and gently pulled Peter along. “C’mon, let’s leave her be.”

“Okay…” Peter sighed, and followed after him.

* * *

Five metres out of earshot, Maria paused.

“Huh?” She blinked, looking over her shoulder. “What was I… where’s Parker? I thought…” she frowned, rubbing her temples. “You’d think it’d be easy to look for some kid in a bright red suit, even in a place like this…” she shook her head, and turned back around. “Jeez, where _is_ that kid…?”

* * *

“Okay, Peter. Open your eyes.”

Even the sound of his voice was enough. Peter’s eyes shot open, filling with tears as Tony Stark smiled back at him from across the room, perched backwards on the chair as he leaned against the backrest. He rested his chin on his folded arms on top of the backrest, and Peter was already on his feet, rushing towards him to pull him into a hug.

“M-Mr. Stark, Mr. Stark, I—”

“Hey, settle down.” Beck’s voice, this time, and realisation washed over Peter like cold water. He stiffened up in the man’s hold as Beck wrapped his arms around him in a warm hug anyway, and gingerly Peter pulled away. Tony still smiled at him, but that was—that was right.

This was an illusion. Tony wasn’t here anymore.

“I—I, uh, sorry about that.” Peter squeaked, dropping himself back down on the bed with a sigh, lips wobbling as he sniffled weakly. Beck gave him a smile, waving a hand over himself to let his own smile grace his lips, and he got up from the chair to stride across the room. He sat down next to Peter, and pulled him close, letting the teen rest his head on his shoulder.

“Maybe we should stop.” Beck bit back a smile. Peter shook his head.

“No, I can keep going.” His hands clenched in the sheets uneasily. “ _Don’t stop._ ”

The man chuckled softly, and shook his head, gently pulling Peter away to look him in the eye. “Kid, we’ve been at this for half an hour now, and all you’ve done is cry about it the whole time. I don’t know about you, but I don’t think crying for 30 straight minutes is gonna be good for you. We aren’t getting anywhere, and this has got to be getting worse for you at some point.”

“No,” Peter shook his head again, but Beck held him by his wrists, and gently squeezed them as he put them back on Peter’s lap. “Mr. Beck, I’m not a kid anymore, I can take it—”

“ _Listen,_ ” Beck said, and Peter pursed his lips petulantly. “You’re only 16. You need a break.”

“I need to prove to you that I’m not a kid anymore.” Peter shot back, and Beck’s smile sharpened to a grin.

“Really.” Beck drawled. “To be fair, I _know_ you’re as capable as they come.” He said, and Peter blinked at him confusedly as the older man let him go. “I saw you in action today. I know I can count on you, and like I said—I could use a guy like you in my world.”

“See? I can take it.” Peter said, and Beck made a show of sighing, considering Peter’s words before shrugging.

“Okay, I believe you.” He replied, and got up from his seat to head to the minibar at the corner of his room. Peter watched him go, cocking his head, and his eyes widened when he saw the man pick up a can of beer from inside, before turning around to look at him.

“Uh…”

“Takes the edge off things.” Beck said, “If we’re gonna keep doing this,” He got back down on the bed next to Peter, and held the can out for the teen to look at. “I have to get a say in the matter, since it’s breaking my heart making a cute kid like you cry.”

Peter flushed at the comment, and Beck shrugged, grinning.

“Or is this no good?”

Peter swallowed thickly.

“Haven’t had a drink before.” He said gingerly. Beck beamed at him. “But… beer probably won’t work on me. Enhanced healing, metabolism, that kinda stuff… it’ll just pass through me, if anything.”

“Huh.” Beck hummed, and went back to the minibar. “Lucky for you, I’ve got some stronger stuff back here.”

Peter laughed nervously. “I don’t think I wanna ask why you have them in the first place, Mr. Beck.” He watched as Beck pulled out a green bottle, misting slightly with the cold from the minibar, and his smile widened when the man grinned at him, popping the lid open.

“For special occasions.” He replied easily. “Like helping my favourite friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man through his problems.”

Peter laughed at that, and Beck huffed fondly, pouring some of the drink into two mugs he picked up from the shelves by the minibar.

“Though I’m not so friendly myself, sharin’ drinks with a little kid like you.”

“Not a kid anymore, Mr. Beck.” Peter replied, cocking his head teasingly as he accepted the mug Beck handed him.

“Fair enough.” The man laughed. “Bottoms up, Peter.”

The two of them downed their drinks, and Peter shuddered, his face scrunching up as he felt the burn of strong alcohol go down his throat. It pooled warmly in his belly, leaving a line of strangely pleasant tingling sensation down his chest.

“You good, kid?” Beck asked, grinning slightly as he brought the bottle with him to the bed, pouring himself and Peter another mug.

“Y-yeah. I’m fine.” Peter nodded. “This is—heh, kinda, um…”

“How is it?”

“It’s kinda… funky, but I guess it’s not so bad.” The teen looked down at the mug of alcohol he cradled in his hands. “Like, it’s hot when it comes down your throat. Feels kinda… nice.”

“Glad to hear it.” Beck nodded, throwing back his drink like it was nothing, and Peter watched him, pouting in thought. The man gave him a wink, laughing softly, and the teen frowned at him deeper. “Give it some time. You’ll get used to it.”

“I guess…” he looked down at his mug again. “Here goes.”

He threw back his drink again, wincing at an even stronger burn. “ _Phew._ ”

“C’mon, Peter, we’re here on business.” Beck laughed, pushing Peter’s mug down from his face to look at the teen blinking at him slowly. “Let’s get back on track.”

“Ri—righ,” Peter mumbled. “Hit me with it, Mr. Beck.”

Beck gave him a nod, and Peter shut his eyes. The man’s smile turned vicious, warping around Tony Stark’s lips, and he pulled Peter close.

“Hey,” He said, vicious honey drizzling over Tony’s voice, and Peter stiffened up in his embrace. “Peter. I’ve missed you.”

Peter sniffled, grip tightening on Beck’s arms.

“M-Mr. Stark.” He said quietly. “You’re—you’re gone. You’re not here anymore.”

“No, Peter.” Beck replied, kissing the teen’s temple as he stroked his back. “I’ve never left. I’ll always be with you.”

Peter choked, sobbing quietly as he clung onto the man.

“Mr. Beck,” He said weakly. “That’s not… fair.”

“Nothing ever is.” The man replied, as himself again, and pulled away to press his mug against Peter’s quivering lips. “C’mon, drink it off.”

Peter blankly let him pour the drink into his mouth, swallowing some of it while a little trickle ran down from the corner of his lips. Beck grinned down at him, cocking his head as he put the mug aside, cradling Peter’s mug against his hands to keep it from falling.

“Drunk already, kid?” He asked, but Peter blinked at him slowly.

“‘M… not a kid.” He slurred, and Beck laughed, nodding.

“Oh, right, right.” He nodded, and took a sip from Peter’s mug. He could see the way the teen watched him, and he grinned wider. “Want some more?” He asked, and Peter nodded slowly.

Beck dipped two of his fingers into the deep green liquid, and held it up at Peter. The teen looked at it for a moment, before letting the man press his fingers to his lips, adding only the slightest amount of pressure before they easily slipped past Peter’s lips.

“Good?” He asked, and Peter nodded, managing a ‘yeah’ past the intrusion in his mouth, and Beck’s grin widened when he felt Peter sucking on his fingers lightly. “Oh, that’s a good boy. Didn’t have to tell you anything.”

“ _Mihher Behck_ ,” Peter whined against the man’s fingers, and he tutted, pulling them away from the teen to beckon him closer.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full.” He tutted, as Peter scooted closer, crawling into his lap when Beck pulled him into it. “Here’s some more. That’s a good boy.”

He stroked Peter’s back gently as he wet his fingers again before slipping them into the teen’s mouth, relishing the wet, slippery warmth against his fingers as Peter sucked on them. The teen shivered against the sensation of his warm hand rising up his back in a slow, sensual burn, and he squirmed slightly, whining against Beck’s fingers. Peter reached up to gingerly hold Beck’s wrist, and the man pulled his fingers out of Peter’s mouth, chuckling softly.

“God, you’re really something, aren’t you?” The man rumbled, petting Peter heavily over his back, enjoying the way the brunet leaned into his touch, his back arching in a graceful curve. “Look at that. I bet no one’s ever touched you like this before, huh?”

“Yeah…” Peter nodded distractedly, shuddering pleasantly as he felt Beck’s hand slowly stroked down from Peter’s side, sensual heat spreading under his skin as Beck moved down to Peter’s thighs, spreading them much wider open. He squeezed his eyes shut, and Beck couldn’t help but laugh.

“Shit, kid, you’re adorable.” He purred, leaning forward to hold Peter close, pressing his head to the boy’s heart to listen to its beat. “You mind if I took more than just your first drink?”

“No…” Peter mumbled, wrapping his arms around the back of Beck’s neck as the man pulled him close to straddle his lap, his hands sliding down from Peter’s waist to his ass, squeezing _hard._ The teen’s eyes widened, and he looked down at Beck, who gave him a charming wink.

“What a sweet ass, too.” He said, and Peter flushed deeper. “I bet you taste as sweet as you look. I almost wanna taste you right the hell now, with the way you look tonight.”

“I—” Peter bit his lip, pulling away from the man to cover his mouth. “I’ve never been kissed before.”

“Another first for me, then.” Beck winked at him, and Peter flinched, helplessly aroused by the wink. “C’mon, lean down a little. That’s a good boy.”

Peter leaned down until their noses brushed, and Beck’s grin widened.

“Hey, shh, it’s okay. You know, there’s another way to get over sadness.”

“Really?” Peter asked, voice barely a whisper, and Beck laughed, his voice growing rough and husky.

“Oh, yeah.” He replied. “It’s really grown-up, sure you can handle it?”

“Uh-huh.” Peter nodded, bumping their noses together accidentally, and Beck chuckled as his hand reached up to tangle in the boy’s soft locks.

“Great. You’re a big boy now, after all.” Beck purred, and pulled Peter down to kiss him.

If he wasn’t so inebriated, Peter would have jolted, pulled away in alarm at the whole thing. His mind was growing foggier and foggier, clouded by the drink that had invaded his veins, holding his mind submerged in a thick, hazy cloud. Any thought of protest, of questioning, flew out the window at the sensation of Beck’s lips on his, and all Peter could manage was a soft whine.

Oh, this was scary—

 _Terrifying_ , actually.

Peter couldn’t stop shaking, his eyes squeezing shut as Beck’s mouth moved against his, all strength and domineering power. The kiss stole his breath away and the hand at the back of his head kept him still as Beck’s tongue slid into his mouth, dragging a hot, wet line against Peter’s own tongue. He shuddered, his hands shooting down to Beck’s shoulders, but he couldn’t decide if he wanted to push him away—

 _—he should he should oh_ **_god_ ** _he should—_

Or pull him closer, a slow-burning fire of pleasure beginning to ache in his body, curling like a snake around his gut as his arousal began to stir to life.

It was terrifying, yeah, to be kissing some strange guy he just met that day, but _fuck,_ this felt so _good._

Beck pulled away, laughing as he nipped at Peter’s lips.

“Oh, you’re so fuckin’ sweet.” He rumbled, “You can’t be this good for me, this is unbelievable…”

“Please,” Peter managed, and the man pulled away from him to give him a smirk, cocking an eyebrow at him. The teen visibly shuddered, and squeezed Beck’s shoulders. “I—don’t—”

“Just say the word, sweetheart.” The man purred, leaning forward to nose at Peter’s throat, feeling it bob as the boy swallowed nervously.

“ _Don’t stop, Mr. Beck._ ”

Peter couldn’t quite believe the way he sounded—breathless and oh so desperate.

_waitwaitwait that’s not what he wanted to say—_

“Please, I—” Peter shivered pleasantly as Beck’s hands stroked his body, one of them settling on his ass to squeeze it, while the other teased at the edges of the disengaging mechanism of his suit on his chest. “Please, Mr. Beck. More.”

“Can’t say no when you ask so nicely.” The man grinned, rutting up against Peter’s ass, and the teen gasped when he felt the man’s erection grind against it. “I’m gonna take such good care of you, Peter. Just give it all to me.”

“Yeah, okay…” No! Not okay! Peter’s mind was so foggy, but there was still some part of him that resisted.

What was going on? Did he really want this?

“Oh, almost forgot.” Beck said, pulling away from Peter, and Peter didn’t know if the sigh that followed his movement was one of relief or disappointment. “We’re gonna have to take all of this stuff off, Peter. Can you do that?”

Peter nodded dazedly, and tapped his chest. The suit disengaged, growing limp, and it slid down Peter’s chest, revealing to Beck his shoulders, smooth and unmarked, and the man immediately moved forward to latch onto his neck. Peter gasped, reaching forward to grab Beck’s arms, only to realise that the man was already naked, his armour disappearing into mist.

 _Damn magic users,_ his mind supplied, and then, _I don’t think this is such a good idea._

He ignored the second part of that, distracted by the feel of solid muscle under his hands. Peter took a shaky breath as Beck kissed up the column of his throat, taking extra time to tease at marking him right on top of his pulse point.

“N-no marks, please—”

“I know, sweetheart.” Beck’s words vibrated against his pulse, and Peter jerked against Beck’s body unconsciously, only belatedly realising that Beck had slid the rest of his suit down his arms. The man pulled him into a slow, toe-curling kiss, feeling the way Beck’s lips curled up into a smirk as Peter melted against him, moaning softly.

Beck’s hands felt so _big_ against his body. The heat that followed them as they revealed more and more of Peter’s skin felt more tingly and pleasant than the alcohol Peter drank.

“Feel so good, Mr. Beck.” Peter slurred when they parted for air, and he was mostly naked now, his suit bunched up at his waist. “It’s so—it’s so hot…”

“Take the rest off then, baby boy.” The man chuckled, pulling away, and Peter nodded blankly, getting up from the man’s lap to shimmy his suit down his waist and thighs. He pulled his underwear along with it, and when he stepped out of it, flushed pink all over, his erection stood up straight, precum beading at the head. His body shivered in both the cold air and the overwhelming feeling of pleasure in his blood, intoxication from the alcohol keeping him feeling oversensitive, suddenly hyper-aware of the way Beck’s eyes raked over his body from head to toe. Peter shifted his weight on his feet self consciously, flushing a pretty pink as the man’s gaze lingered on his cock, and Beck licked his lips.

“Turn around.”

Peter’s cheeks and ears burned, but he did as he was told, turning around to let Beck see his back, his ass. The man whistled lowly, and Peter turned back around to see him beckoning Peter closer.

Peter obeyed, feeling pride tingling at the base of his spine at the pleased smile Beck gave him. He climbed back onto Beck’s lap to straddle him, and the man’s hands immediately went back to stroking his body. One hand settled on his ass, squeezing it another time, and Peter flinched, gasping softly at the sensation. Beck gave him a laugh, pecking Peter softly before he lifted the boy, earning him a shout of protest.

“Hey, baby, relax. I’m gonna take care of you.” Beck soothed, positioning Peter like a doll on the bed, setting him down on his back as he held the teen’s thighs open. He looked over him, licking his lips as Peter gingerly held onto the pillows behind his head. “Shit, you look delicious.”

“M-Mr. Beck,” Peter mumbled, squirming a little under the man’s heated gaze. “I-I, uh—it’s my, uh—my first… time.”

Beck hissed, grinning. “A virgin, huh? Surprised you lasted this long like that.”

Peter bit his lip, stiffening up self consciously as Beck pushed his legs down wide in a split.

“Ooh, flexible too.”

“I, uh, did ballet for a bit.” He replied. “And the whole Avenger job, kinda, uh…” Beck chuckled at that, and leaned down to kiss him to shut up. Peter melted against the kiss, reaching up to pull the man closer, but Beck pulled away soon enough, nodding approvingly.

“You’re a sweet kid, Peter.” He said. “Perfect, actually. I’m gonna have a lot of fun with you.”

Peter looked up at him hopefully, and the man gave him a wink.

“Still feelin’ sad?”

“What do I have to be sad about?” Peter asked, cocking his head, and Beck’s grin widened.

“Dunno, losing your virginity in a place like this?” He asked, moving lower down Peter’s body, and the teen shivered as the man’s hands drew over his pectorals, playing with his nipples.

“I-I—uh,” Peter couldn’t think straight. His limbs felt like jelly and his mind was foggy, and all he could concentrate on was the feeling of Beck’s hands on him. His skin felt like it was on fire wherever Beck touched him, and he shuddered as the man leaned down, trailing butterfly kisses down from his throat to his abdomen. The man’s beard scratched pleasantly against Peter’s skin, and he couldn’t help but giggle.

Beck smiled up at him as he held Peter’s thighs down, shutting him up immediately, and he was rewarded with that wide-eyed deer in the headlights look, puppy brown eyes holding a plea he couldn’t say out loud.

_(Stop this, please—I don’t know what’s going on!)_

“Relax, baby boy. I’ve got you.”

Peter opened his mouth to speak, but Beck leaned down and took in his length in a smooth sweep. The teen’s eyes widened and he gasped, throwing his head back as his thighs clamped around Beck’s head. The man laughed, the vibrations going straight to Peter’s dick, and his hands shot down to uselessly grasp at Beck’s hair, panting heavily as he gaped wide-eyed at the ceiling.

“M-Mr. Beck!” His hands balled in the man’s hair, but he did little else. He could feel Beck’s beard brushing against his crotch, subtle but overwhelming all at once, the hot wet heat of Beck’s mouth around his cock sending shockwaves of pleasure stuttering up his spine. The man sucked him off, humming pleasantly, and Peter could feel tears prickling the corner of his eyes, overwhelmed with sensation as Beck held his hips down hard against the bed. “P-please, I’m—I’m not gonna—”

Beck pulled off him with an obscene _pop,_ grinning down at Peter as he looked up with him desperately.

“You can cum, it’s okay.” He said, making a show of licking his lips. “I _did_ say I wanted to taste you, y’know.”

Peter hid his face behind his hands, and Beck laughed, though not unkindly. He went back down on Peter, and the teen bit his lip, hard, trying not to buck into Beck’s mouth as he fought the noises escaping his mouth.

Suddenly he felt a wet finger brush against his entrance, and Peter’s eyes went wide. He shot up ramrod straight as a scream escaped his lips, his orgasm ripping through him like a storm that stole his breath away. Beck pulled off him, laughing softly, and Peter groaned, his cock still hard and twitching in interest at the realisation that the man had swallowed him down.

“Oh… oh my _god…_ ” he breathed, dropping back down on the bed, his hand coming up to cover his eyes. “Mr. Beck, that was…”

“God, you really are a virgin.” Beck chuckled fondly, and Peter pouted at him as he slid back up his body to kiss him deeply. Peter winced as he felt Beck’s tongue slide against his, the hint of his own taste chasing the wet heat Beck brought with him.

They parted for air.

“I…” Peter blinked up at Beck slowly. “That was… intense.”

“You haven’t seen nothin’ yet.” The man grinned. “Look.”

He sat back, straddling Peter properly as he gave himself an experimental tug, and Peter’s eyes widened at the sight of his cock. “You’re taking this inside you, baby boy. Like what you see?”

“You’re so…” Peter bit his lip. “Will you _fit?_ ”

“We’ll make sure of that.” Beck kissed him gently, teasingly. “God, when you said you were a virgin, I just—wow, that’s _hot._ ”

Peter blushed, sitting up gingerly when the man pulled him upright, and let Beck have him hold his legs apart by his thighs, presenting himself to the man. Like this Peter felt so _exposed,_ and the thought of it made the hairs of his nape stand in anticipation.

Beck looked him up and down approvingly.

“You’re looking pretty as a picture right about now.” He grinned. “I almost wanna snap a picture.”

“Then take one,” Peter said, and didn’t know why he did. He hesitated, and flushed deeper. Beck’s eyebrow raised in approval, a grin tugging at his lips. “It’ll—it’ll last longer.”

“That’s an affirmative, I guess!” The man cheered, waving his hand to materialise a smartphone in it. Gleefully he aimed it at Peter, who squirmed slightly in embarrassment, unconsciously holding himself wider open. The damning sound of a phone camera shutter clicking sent a tingling, horrific nervous sensation crawling up his spine, but soon the phone was gone and Beck was back to showering attention on Peter’s thighs. The boy jolted as Beck bit down on the meat of his thigh, his cock twitching in interest as the bite mark turned an angry red.

“M-Mr. Beck! N-no marks!”

“Couldn’t resist.” Beck said, “Sorry.” Unapologetic. He grinned up at Peter, who looked down at him with tears in his eyes. “Aw, baby. Don’t cry.”

“I-I’m—I’m gonna get in trouble if—”

Peter winced, and Beck looked down to see his bite mark turn an angry violet, blooming far too quickly into a bruise, before slowly starting to fade away.

The two of them fell quiet, and Peter ran his hand down his face.  

“Right…” He panted. “Hyper… healing.”

“Aren’t I just the luckiest bastard?” Beck grinned up at him, and Peter squeaked when the man got to work, marking up his thighs with angry, possessive red bite marks. The whole time, Peter’s cock still stood up straight, weeping precum again, stark white against the angry pink flush that his skin sported. Beck’s grin pressed against the throbbing, bruised skin of Peter’s thigh, and when he stopped, the teen dropped his head back against the pillow, panting heavily.

“God, you’re beautiful.” Beck muttered, rubbing his beard against Peter’s stinging skin, and the teen flinched, twitching once as Beck’s hand wrapped around a bruising section of Peter’s thigh. The teen let out a gasp, gripping the pillows desperately as he squeezed his eyes shut, a few tears running down his cheeks. “Is it overwhelming, sweetheart?”

“I-I—” Peter took shaking, halting breaths—almost hyperventilating, really—and tried again. “Daddy, please, I feel like I’m going crazy—”

Beck stopped, his eyes going wide. Peter’s hands shot up to cover his mouth, but Beck grinned down at him slowly, rising up to look Peter in the eye as the teen desperately tried to hide from his gaze.

“Hey—hey, Peter, what’d you just call me?”

“I’m—I’m sorry, Mr. Beck, I-I just—I didn’t mean to, it just came out and I know it’s kinda weird and it’s probably such a big turn off and—”

The boy tended to ramble and fall apart when he was nervous. God, that was adorable.

Beck took his wrists gently, prying them away from the shivering, blushing teen, and grinned handsomely down at him as he moved Peter’s hand down to touch his cock, rock-hard and up to attention. Peter gasped softly, his eyes going wide in innocent shock, and Beck lasciviously gave him a once-over, licking his lips pointedly at him.

“That sounded real nice, baby boy.” He rumbled, and Peter shivered as he let Beck wrap his slim fingers around his hot erection. “Now, answer my question, Peter. What’d you call me?”

“D-daddy?” The teen mumbled, and Beck shook his head, reaching down to take Peter’s cock in his hand to stroke slowly. The brunet gasped, throwing his head back against the pillow, and Beck helped himself to marking up the column of Peter’s throat. “W-wait! Mr. Beck—”

“Nuh-uh. None of that ‘Mr. Beck’ stuff, Peter.” Beck grinned against his pulse, nibbling on it lightly to enjoy the breathless keen he got for his troubles. “Call me your daddy. This is for me as much as it is for you.”

Peter squeezed his eyes shut, and nodded desperately.

“P-please, daddy, please…” He panted, and the man grinned, getting up to let Peter pull him into a deep, desperate kiss, lean legs locking around him to pull him closer.

“What do you want, sweetheart?” Beck murmured against Peter’s lips.

“I—I dunno.” The teen admitted. “It’s—it’s kinda scary, but it feels really good, I…” Peter bit his lip as the man pulled away from him to admire the sweet pink high on his cheeks. “I don’t want to stop, but I dunno what’s gonna happen next.”

“That’s why daddy’s here, baby.” Beck cooed, and pulled away to grin down at Peter. “I’ll take care of you, okay?”

“Okay.” Peter nodded slowly.

“Good, good. Open yourself up again, that’s it. Good boy.” Beck grinned as Peter obeyed him dutifully, the sight of that sweet pink pucker peeking out at him from underneath Peter’s leaking cock making his dick twitch in interest. Peter looked up at him with those adorable brown puppy-eyes, and Beck gave him a wink. “Okay, don’t cum just yet, can you do that?”

“Ye-yeah, s-sure I can, Daddy.” Peter nodded hurriedly, but his grip on his ass was white-knuckled. Beck laughed softly, kissing the inside of Peter’s knee gently, and patted the boy’s hip.

“Just relax. I got you.” He said, and waved his hand, materialising a bottle of lubricant next to Peter’s hips on the bed. The teen took a sharp, nervous breath as he watched Beck slick his fingers up generously, but he couldn’t look away as Beck reached down to trace a light, cool line of lubricant up Peter’s overheated cock.

“A- _ah,_ Daddy…” he hissed, “I’m not gonna—I’m not gonna last very long…”

“You gotta keep it in, Peter.” Beck hummed. “C’mon, you can do it.”

Peter winced as Beck wrapped his hand around his dick, pumping shallowly as his other hand reached down to trace a slow, teasing circle around Peter’s rim. The teen gasped, his thighs twitching against his superpowered hold on them to keep them open, and Beck grinned wider.

“Good boy. You’re such a good boy, Peter.”

“Da-Daddy, please,” Peter panted desperately, “I’m so—I’m so close.”

“Hold on, sweetheart, be a good boy for Daddy.” Beck murmured, grinning as he finally slipped his finger into the boy, earning him a moan from Peter as he curled back into the bed. “You close?”

“Y-yeah, please—I’m—I—”

“ _Not yet._ ” Beck squeezed the base of Peter’s cock, hard, and the teen whined, squirming against his hold as his building orgasm faded away from him, leaving him feeling bereft. Beck gave him a vicious grin as he slowly fucked Peter with his finger, and Peter’s expression fell lax, feeling himself stretch out in a smooth, wet slide that made him ache to the very core. “When Daddy says you don’t, you don’t. Am I clear?”

“Y-yes, Daddy.” The teen said shakily, and Beck nodded, giving him a soft peck on the cheek, kissing away a tear that had rolled down from his eyes.

“Good boy.” He hummed, and got back to opening Peter up with his fingers. One finger escalated to two, and then as Beck slipped in his third, he hooked his fingers, brushing against Peter’s prostate. The teen’s eyes shot open, his back going straight, but Beck held him down, holding his orgasm at bay with another vice grip at his cock.

“Daddy, please!” Peter begged, tears rolling down his cheeks as Beck fucked him with his fingers, opening him up wider for his dick. “I—I’ve been good, please, just—please—”

“I know, baby boy, I know.” Beck leaned up to kiss Peter’s tears away, and then down to press a kiss to the top of Peter’s weeping cockhead. The teen flinched, another burst of precum spilling out from the angry pink head, and Beck grinned up at him. “Okay, let’s plug you up, sweetheart.”

Peter nodded, gripping his thighs nervously as he held himself open, his breath hitching as Beck slicked himself up before lining up against Peter’s entrance. The older man gave him a charming grin, cocking his head at him.

“Ready, baby boy?”

Somewhere at the back of his head, Peter remembered something Tony said about condoms, but it was quickly lost to the rush of heavy-lidded lust, jolting through his body as Beck stroked Peter’s bruised thighs, and he nodded.

_(By the way, who was Tony again?)_

Beck pushed into him, and Peter’s eyes went wide, his mouth falling open in a soundless scream. The intrusion was _big,_ hot and almost unbearable in pressure, and Beck’s expression crumbled as the slow, hot drag of his cock sent pleasure shooting up their spines.

“Holy _fuck,_ ” He breathed, “Peter, you’re so _tight._ ”

“D-Daddy—Daddy,” Peter was incoherent, lost to the roar of his blood in his ears, the overwhelming sensation of being split open on Beck’s thick cock. “A- _ahh,_ you’re so _big—_ ”

“Fuck, you’re—god, shit, you weren’t kidding when you said you were a virgin.”

“Wh-why would I be lying abou— _Daddy!_ ”

Beck thrust the rest of the way in, burying himself in Peter, the head of his cock pressing hard against the teen’s prostate. Peter jolted, squeezing his eyes shut as he came, spilling white between their chests in ribbons, and Beck grinned past the strain in his face.

“Oh, Peter.” He sighed, watching as the teen buried his face in his hands, sniffling, tears running down ruddy cheeks. “Sweetheart, I’m not mad. It’s your first time. I get it.”

“I-I’m sorry, you said—you said I shouldn’t—”

“Shh, it’s okay.” Beck said gently, and reached down again to stroke Peter’s still-hard length. He winced, twitching helplessly at the man’s touch, and he laughed breathlessly. “Wow, you teenagers really have stamina, huh?”

“Mr. Beck…” Peter whined, and the man laughed, kissing Peter’s forehead. “I-I mean, Daddy—it—it kinda hurts.”

“I know, that’s why I’m waiting.” Beck said gently. “You’re so damn tight even after all that prep, god _damn._ I’m never letting you go, sweetheart.”

Peter looked up at him with a meek smile, and Beck cupped his cheek in his hand.

“You’re mine, got it?” He asked, and Peter nodded against Beck’s palm, the man thumbing away at a tear that had rolled down his cheek. “Say it, baby boy.”

“I’m yours, Mr. Beck.” Peter said softly, and Beck noted the blankness in the teen’s eyes with no small amount of glee. “I’ll always come back to you, Daddy.”

“That’s my baby boy.” He hummed, pleased, and he shifted his hips against Peter’s. The teen moaned, twitching again as Beck nodded. “Looks like you’re ready.”

“Yeah, I am,” He replied, reaching up to wrap his arms around the back of Beck’s neck, pulling him down for a deep kiss. “Please, Daddy. Please fuck me.”

“If you insist, baby boy.” Beck managed between grit teeth, and pulled out of Peter until only the tip of his cock was inside. Without wasting a moment, he slid back inside, filling the teen out again, and Peter threw his head back, gasping. He pulled Beck down with him into a kiss, and the man let him, kissing him deeply as he began to thrust into the teen.

He started off slow, listening to the little sounds he could coax out of Peter as he thrust into him, but as he picked up speed, he was pleased to hear that Peter’s voice could grow louder, pitching higher as Beck drove deeper and faster into him, pressing him into the springy, squeaky mattress.

“Da— _aah—_ Daddy—I’m—I’m gonna—”

“Just a minute, baby,” He panted, pulling Peter’s leg up onto his shoulder, and the teen gasped as Beck fucked into him roughly, the angle hard and deep as his prostate was hit over and over.

“Please, _pleasepleaseplease—_ ” Peter babbled, and Beck nodded.

“C’mon, baby,” Beck said, “You can cum now, show Daddy how prettily you cum.”

Peter whined, and he came again, the space between him and Beck growing slick with his cum as the man groaned, thrusting into Peter once, twice—before coming himself, burying himself deep into the teen’s abused hole and coming in one hot gush, filling him up. He collapsed on top of Peter, panting heavily as they basked in the afterglow of their orgasm.

The room smelled like sex, and it was intoxicating. Beck grinned to himself as he pushed himself to sit upright, sliding out of Peter to hear the boy groan in protest, before curling up to cuddle against Beck’s side, already looking sleepy.

“Go to sleep, Peter.” Beck said, and the boy nodded, his eyes sliding shut as the man petted his hair. Beck looked around the room, and laughed viciously.

“I knew fucking a virgin kid would be a _bitch_ to maintain glamour on, but _fuck_ if that wasn’t worth it.” He smirked down at the sleeping Peter, and admired the way the lithe boy slept so comfortably beside him.

So sweet, so trusting.

Vulnerable, and already so irrevocably trapped.

This was going to be so much _fun._

* * *

“Sir, have you seen Mysterio or Parker anywhere?” Maria asked, and Fury cocked his head at her, looking up from his tablet.

“Sure you haven’t checked his room or some shit?” He asked, “I’m pretty sure Parker should’ve gone back to his class by now.”

“About that, sir…” Maria rubbed her arm, and Fury cocked an eyebrow at her. She picked up her tablet from where it was resting on the clipboard she was carrying, and turned it around to have it face Fury. “His… friend called.”

“ _Mr. Fury, right?_ ” Ned Leeds’s worried face was on the screen, and Fury frowned.

“How in the absolute hell did you find this secure network, kid?” He asked, but the teen shook his head.

“ _Not important._ ” He replied tartly. “ _Where’s Peter?_ ”

“Huh?” Fury blinked at Maria, who nodded gravely. “Kid’s not back?”

“I was intending to take him back to his classmates tonight, but I haven’t been able to find him.” She said. “Who was the last person to see him?”

“That Quentin Beck guy,” Fury replied, and looked back down at Ned. “You. I’m gonna need to hear from you again, kid.”

“ _Don’t cut me off, or I swear I’ll hack in again._ ” Ned said, frowning. “ _I just wanna make sure Peter’s okay. Take me with you to find him._ ”

“Fine.” Fury rolled his eyes. “We’ll go talk to Beck.”

Maria nodded, and the two of them strode out of the office room.

* * *

“ _Come in._ ”

Maria opened the door at the sound of Beck’s voice to see the man sitting by the windowsill, shirtless, a rebreather on his mouth. The operative blinked at him, and he laughed, taking it off with a wiggle of his fingers.

“Sorry, was testing my stuff out for a sec.” He said, and got off the windowsill. Fury took a look around the room—nothing out of the ordinary, the sheets of Beck’s bed were rumpled, but empty, and nothing else was out of place, save for a pair of mugs that sat in the sink by Beck’s kitchenette. “How may I help you?” He asked.

“We’re looking for Parker.” Fury said, after confirming the room was empty, and Beck nodded as he gestured at the mugs in the sink. “Did you have him over?”

“Yeah,” Beck nodded, “But he got upset and went right out the window.” He said, before gesturing at his rebreather. “I was gonna go after him, but I figured the kid just needed some space after what we talked about.”

“What did you talk about?” Maria asked.

“That Tony Stark guy.” Beck replied. “Peter really misses him, so we talked about him for a bit.”

“Huh.” Fury frowned. “Okay, we’re done here.”

Beck gave Fury and Maria a mock salute, and the brunette looked down at Ned on her screen as she and Fury stepped out of the room. Beck shut the door behind them with a soft click.

“We’ll find him,” She said, as the teen gaped up at her. “Don’t worry. Please, cover for him as much as you can, okay?”

“ _I—Miss, didn’t you—_ ”

“Over and out,” Fury said, and Maria turned off the transmission. The two of them strode away from Beck’s room, their steps in perfect synchrony.

* * *

Ned gaped at his tablet, and dropped it onto his bed— _his and Peter’s bed—_ when the transmission cut.

“They didn’t—they didn’t see him?” He breathed shakily, “He was— _Peter was right there._ ”

* * *

Beck chuckled darkly to himself as he locked the door, and looked back at Peter, still fast asleep on his bed, a dreamy smile on his face as he snored quietly. He stepped away from the door, walking past one of his gas gauntlets on the shelf, and checked the hallucinogenic gas release timer.

It had stopped releasing the gas around the time Maria and Fury entered the room. Good. The effects of it should last until later that night, but by then, it would already be too late.

“Okay, baby boy.” He murmured, “Let’s get into all sorts of trouble, shall we?”

**Author's Note:**

> we have a saying in tagalog that isn't very great but really apt, 'kapag may alak, may balak', which roughly translates to "if someone involves alcohol, they're up to no good" and this is straight up just that sjkdlsjd
> 
> please be fucky mr beck i beg you. please make me extremely horny. i love you


End file.
